


Fare thee well

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 19:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Grantaire sacrifices himself for Enjolras at the second day of June Rebellion. i.e. Grantaire is dead, but Enjolras lives.However, Enjolras is given a chance to properly say goodbye to Grantaire as he is brought back to life.





	Fare thee well

**Author's Note:**

> Context: Instead of Jean Valjean, Enjolras took care of Cosette.  
> (He's about ten years older than her.)

"Fantine," Enjolras was breathless with delight, failing to understand who stood before him, "But..."  
"You took great care for my daughter, so I thank you," When she smiled, her front two teeth were missing, but her eyes translated the happiness he had never felt, "I have chosen you, Enjolras, to let me bring someone to your realm."  
"My... realm?" Enjolras shivered.  
"Yes. Someone from my world will momentarily visit yours." Fantine's blue eyes darkened with misery, "Although it won't be for long, you will still be able to communicate; say the last words you failed to before." She let the information sink in before she continued, "Is there anyone in mind?"  
Enjolras' breaths were rigid and broken. The only thing he could see and concentrate on was an almost transparent Fantine. He raised his hand to his cheek; he felt tears. How long he had actually been crying he didn't know, but it was at that moment he knew for definite who he wanted to bring to life. Even for a second. A proper farewell that was never addressed, he had to speak to him. He had to. "Grantaire," he choked on his words. His vision became blurry and his heart raced impossibly fast. "Grantaire," he spoke against, wanting to shout out, but not having enough breaths nor energy to do so. He attempted to speak again. Instead, he fell to his knees, "Please give me an hour before I see him."  
Fantine watched in pity, "Enjolras, I can wait longer."  
"No. You may never come back. I might miss you. This may be a dream. I don't want to lose him again. Not like this."  
Fantine nodded, not that Enjolras could see it, but of a silent agreement by herself.

Enjolras stumbled to a tape nearby, grabbed ink and paper. His eyes searched and scanned the paper for something he did not know. His mind was blank, yet his body wanted to be distracted.  
He started to write down a speech.

"It's time." Fantine's voice was soft as a song.  
Enjolras smiled wearily, exhausted from the pain he was about to feel.  
In front of him a figure stirred into existence as Fantine dissolved. His eyes were charcoal black, the man's hair was left oily as it was the last time he had seen him, and he still retained the shadows under his eyes. But he was smiling.  
"Grantaire," Enjolras dropped the piece of paper he had gripped tight on.  
"Apollo," the phantom quietly whispered, as if he was scared one loud noise would send him back with the dead.  
"I'm so sorry. I should have saved you."  
"Then I would be in your position. I wouldn't be able to bare the suffering that would bring on me." He tried to place his hand on ENjolras' cheek but to no avail; they couldn't touch each other. "You are truly brave, Apollo. I am glad I took the bullets for you."  
"You were not my shield, Grantaire. You were my friend."  
"Ah, so that is how you viewed it as?"  
Enjolras very well knew what Grantaire had meant by such things, but he was too afraid. Even though this would be their last meeting, he was too frightened to reveal his true emotions.  
Enjolras kept silent.  
"I loved you, Apollo, I really did. And I still do now." He waited for a reaction. There was none, he carried on, "It pained me every day to look at your way, to always be greeted with the same response of neglect. I hoped every hour ever since I met you that I would be able to touch your face, tell you I love you, and..." He contemplated on his last word. "Kiss. That was all that I ever wanted. Not a grand gesture, just a proof that you cared for me."  
"I- I did." He cleared his throat out of the embarrassment of his unstable voice, "I still do. Grantaire, I do."  
"Then why did you not notice me at all? It was only at the moment of death you held my hand."  
Enjolras remembered of the moment he searched for Grantaire's hand. For some reason, his mouth opened, ready to whisper. The soldiers took this as a sign of calming liberty on France, but at that moment, Enjolras forgot he was about to face death. Instead, he turned around to whisper 'Je t'aime' before the gunshots were fired. However all he saw was Grantaire stand in front of him, their faces so close they were practically nose to nose. Terrified, Enjolras was about to push Grantaire away. What was he doing? Standing in front like that? But at that moment, for a brief second, his heart slowed down. He was at peace. Grantaire was smiling warmly, his eyes watering with love. It was then when he realised Grantaire loved him too.  
But it was too late. "Grantaire, I was terrified."  
"Anyone would be in that situation."  
"No. I wasn't as nearly as frightened when those guns faced me than when I was near you. So close to you. I was so scared. What if I broke your trust? What if you stopped believing in me, and give up on Les Amis? I was too afraid to do anything. One wrong move, and I would lose you."  
"You were a coward," There was only bitterness in his broken voice. There was no peace, just fury. "I gave you my life when I was in love with you, Apollo."

He had enough. Not in the terms of anger, but of sadness. Enjolras let the fresh tears roll in before he shouted. What he was saying he was not quite sure. But his throat was sore, his eyes were closed, his body was shaking, and shivers travelled his spine. He wailed and cried. "What do you mean by 'was', Grantaire? I never stopped loving you!"  
Grantaire' form relaxed, stagnant. But because Enjolras had his eyes closed, he was not able to see. Rather, he didn't want to open his eyes. What if Grantaire was gone, and that was their last speech? No, he would be damned if he did not tell the truth.  
"Grantaire, I love..." He let out his tears, incomprehensible words replaced his previous distinguishable ones. "R, I love you."  
A tear formed and travelled down his cheek. "I love you too, Enjolras."

At the sound of his name, Enjolras immediately opened his eyes; ready to face the fear he had suppressed for so long.

But he wasn't there. 

The room was empty.

Not even Fantine was present.

"No!" Enjolras screamed, "Grantaire! I'm so sorry, come back! Grantaire... you can't leave me..." He fell to his knees. "Grantaire..."  
On the floor, there were smudged words on the piece of paper he had dropped earlier. Tears stained blocked anyone from understanding the letter. Although there were three words that were left completely dry: "Fare thee well."  
Desperately, Enjolras held the sheet close to his chest. He mourned, twice as much than before. He had said everything he bottled up for the longest time. "I love you." He whispered for one last time, "R."


End file.
